


Tea and Hypocrisy

by HeatherGiesbrecht



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Family, Ghosts, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Violence, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 08:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherGiesbrecht/pseuds/HeatherGiesbrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could his and Lucille's love be wrong when they were only following the example set by Adam and Eve ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea and Hypocrisy

**Author's Note:**

> Mr. Remus Greene is a man of my own creation as is old Lady Sharpe. The name Styx for the horse and type of horse is also mine since I can't see the movie until sometime next week and can't verify the breed of horse until then. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

Shrouded in the long shadows of a rainy eve, two people stood under the shelter of the general store's eves-troughs. Lucille's lips already soft were lovelier still as they glistened with rain. It was a temptation that he had could not resist, and, warily, Thomas glanced about before leaning in to kiss her. The ding of the store's bell had them returning swiftly to a socially acceptable distance. Never could Lucille's eyes have revealed more satisfaction at their flaunting of propriety than now. How he hated that he had to pretend that his love for Lucille was philia only, it was a disgrace to his sister's astounding beauty. Why should they have had to hide their love when they only followed the example of Adam and Eve. It made not a lick of sense and, in his not so humble opine, made the Church quite hypocritical.

The old man who had exited the store looked familiar in the vaguest sort of way. Queerly, it seemed as though the grey whiskered man recognized him too. "Young Master Thomas ? Ah, my apologies, Sir Thomas, it's quite good to see you again, m'boy. And look here, the young Lady Lucille grown beauteous as the Lady Sharpe herself, God rest her soul."

Both incredulous and bewildered, he approached the tan-skinned man slowly. "You...knew our mother ?"

A briefly doffed hat then the man responded, "I did, yeah. Name's Greene, Remus Greene, was the good Sir's personal servant I was. Up until a year after yourself and the Lady were born 'n I finally retired that is. Just awful it was receiving the news of their deaths knowing youse was all alone. I would've came back to try 'n take care of ya, but me wife said we was too poor to live on the estate, raise ya proper and feed all'a us."

It was incredibly odd trying to think of a time when the house had ever, well, bustled with more life than ghosts. Thomas shook Mr. Greene's hand, "Rest assured that we appreciate your thoughtfulness and loyalty, Mr. Greene."

Lucille walked up to put a hand on his arm, agreeing, "We most certainly do. Come now, Mr. Greene this joyous reunion requires a cuppa."

Mr. Greene smoothed his worn, amethyst waist coat. "I s'pose one or two couldn't hurt. Mrs. Greene ain't expecting me back for a while what with this here storm."

As he escorted Lucille to the cart, he could only hope that the ghosts would stay silent because he had not a clue if Mr. Greene knew of them. Father and Mother's diaries had never mentioned anything of the wait staff's knowledge of the otherworldly occurrences. Lucille did not believe in the ghosts, but she knew not what he did. She had never felt the presence of Mother's ghost, never had it comfort her when the stress became too much. When his sister had climbed onto the seat, he moved to rub the Shetland's nose. "Time to go home, old thing, easy does it." Three years ago, Styx had sprained an ankle after taking a bad fall into the mud during a downpour and disliked the rain ever since.

Thankfully, the rain started to slack off as they made their way down Main Street. He looked behind them once to see Mr. Greene on a lightly scarred, but handsome chestnut gelding. Forty minutes passed before himself and Mr. Greene sat in the parlour of Allerdale Hall while Lucille brought in tea service.

Not surprisingly, Mr. Greene looked about the worn, dark blue plastered room and the wing back chair he sat upon. "I admit that I am glad it has not changed much since I was last here. T'would have been very queer, indeed." A lull as Mr. Greene picked up his tea and took a sip. "Mm, this tea is quite lovely, mi'lady. Rather hard to believe that you learned it all on your own."

Demurely, Lucille folded her hands on her lap, "Thank you, Mr. Greene, but I was fortunate to have my mother's diary and thus her instruction as well."

"That reminds me of sumthing, did ya know about the Lady's sleeping troubles ?"

He took up his own tea for a brief drink before nodding. "Yes, Mother and Father were both very consistent with the documentation of it. What has that to do with our tea ?"

"Ah, that's jus' the thing ain't it ? Ya see old Lady Sharpe, she didn' like your mother much at all. One day the good Sir had hired a new serving girl for the kitchens, your grandmother approached her with a, "Cure for the young Lady's ills." and asked 'er ta put it in yer mother's tea."

Both he and Lucille caught on, simultaneously saying, "It was a cure, as in poison, so that she'd not have ta deal with it seeing 'ow she'd be dead."

Laughter from the old man, "I gotta hand it ta ya you Sharpes are still quick as anything on the up take. Luckily, yer father had seen yer grandmother enter the kitchen 'n observed the situation. He told old Sir Sharpe what'd almost happened 'n he didn' take it too well, no. 'Is request was this: either old Lady Sharpe could stop goin' round yer mother or they could get a divorce 'n she could away never to see Crimson Peak, Allerdale Hall, or her family e'er again. O' course, she couldn' bear to leave 'ere 'n agreed ta never 'arm young Lady Sharpe again."

Heretofore, he had thought his and Lucille's more...injurious...tendencies toward outsiders was only their fault. Now, however, it seemed to run in the blood, excepting that...technically, it had since Cain and Able's time. As if to emphasize his thoughts something, one of the heavier books, thumped onto the floor from the library, which caused Mr. Greene to startle.

Lucille soothed, "It is nothing to worry yourself of, Mr. Greene. The floors have weakened since you were last here and, with the storm, the house's shifting causes certain books to fall easier from the top shelves than they should."

Everyone fell into a brief silence of drinking before the former servant murmured, "Mi' 'pologies fer o'er-stepping mi bounds, but might I suggest a carpenter to see ta the floors ?"

Carpenter, carpenter ? Why ever would he want one of those blighters in his house ? They were an ever suspicious lot those carpenters. If they heard too many strange sounds they'd try to investigate, thus leading to an incredibly unnecessary death. 

So, Thomas gave the answer he gave to near every such inquiry. "When possible I prefer to work on the house myself, Mr. Greene. You remember, obviously, how confusing it was for new servants to navigate the house and how it took them months to get used to the lay out. I would rather people not be getting lost among the many hallways, finding their way into one of the rooms and irreparably damaging an heirloom by accident."

Mr. Greene briefly took out his pocket watch. "O' course, perfectly valid re'son that is. If ya will excuse mi, Sir Thomas, Lady Lucille, I best be getting home ta Mrs. Greene."

"Let us show you to the door at the least. It really was wonderful meeting and talking with you, Mr. Greene." Ten minutes later, when Mr. Greene had ridden out of sight, he closed the gates of Allerdale Hall firmly then turned back toward the mansion. A full moon hung in the sky above the three storey blue brick house, the lone light amidst the darkness. Offhandedly, he wondered, "It is a beautiful night is it not ?"

"That it is, why do you ask ?"

Near maudlin enough to sicken another, he took her hand responding, "Because it is not nearly so beautiful as you. Now, it is late and we should be getting to bed."

A brief giggle left Lucille and she leaned up to kiss him then batted her eyelashes. "What if I do not wish to sleep, Brother ?"

He slid his hand down to rest on her hip and grinned. "Ah, but who said a thing of sleep, Sister ? 'Twas not I. In fact, I should like to know you even better than I already do."

They started back toward the house. He cared not one wit what the church said about them, tonight the ghosts would not be alone in the making of noise. 


End file.
